


Waiting Between Worlds

by riverchic1998



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverchic1998/pseuds/riverchic1998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s expression tightens, mouth a flat line on his face as he looks over Eggsy’s ruffled suit, the way he’s not standing in the typical gentleman’s stature, with his left hand in his pocket, right resting against his thigh. Eggsy’s actually in parade rest, because he feels like he’s back in training and getting ripped into for whatever reason, but he actually knows he’s fucked up this time, and he’s got no one to blame but himself. </p><p>“You were chosen for this mission because you have somewhat of a working knowledge of the drug trade in London. That was the entire <i>point</i>.”</p><p>Eggsy huffs, because that’s a load of bollocks. He knows exactly why he was chosen, and it ain’t because he knows about the drug trade. Eggsy got pulled for this because he used to actually use drugs, used to sell them, and he could fit in with the locals. Not for the first time, he wonders why they even bothered forcing him into the suit for this mission in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ataraxetta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ataraxetta/gifts).



> The title is from 'Waiting Between Worlds' by Zack Hemsey. I listened to his music almost exclusively as I wrote this, and it really does set the mood. 
> 
> I managed to squeeze two of the prompts into this fic, because they both worked out so well together (both prompts are listed in the end notes). Hope I can do them justice. 
> 
> More to come very quickly - as soon as I can get it read over.

One thing they teach in training is how to deal with hypervigilance, how to handle the anxiety that comes from constantly watching your back, worried if the bloke next to you is going to smile at you or stab you. There’s psychologists waiting in the wings after a mission to help agents after they’ve done the things that need to be done. They have tips and tricks to deal with the exhaustion, the anxiety, the overstimulation. Both he and Roxy are told that it’s normal for agents, that spies and soldiers suffer in different ways, that they’ve seen it all. Eggsy nods, because that’s what Roxy does, taking in the information like it’s actually useful. 

He don’t tell ‘em that he’s been living with hypervigilance since he hit his teens. Everyone does on the Estates. There, you don’t worry if the bloke next to you is going to smile or stab. There, you worry if he’ll do it to your face or wait until you turn away.

\----

It’s the hypervigilance that starts it all, ‘cept he ain’t back from a mission. He’s just started one and walking in a club, although Merlin called it a lounge. There’s a bar, a dance floor with truly shitty music, and plenty of dark corners to hide away in, so it’s pretty much like every club he’s ever been in, ‘cept he’s never worn a suit in a club. No matter what people are wearing, they all act the same. He’ll stick to his pubs, thanks.

He don’t have to elbow his way through the crowd, but it’s a near thing. With a sigh, Eggsy slumps, leaning his elbows against the polished wooden bar. Just as he’s about to get the bartender’s attention, Merlin’s voice is in his ear.

“Stop slouching,” he orders. “Spine straight, shoulders back, and keep your hands out of your pockets. We’re not at your local, getting beers.”

The only reason Eggsy does as he’s told is because he doesn’t want Merlin to see his hands clench into tight fists. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, he finally gets the bartender’s attention. He still has to lean in because of the crowd, but apparently that’s acceptable to a fuckin’ gentleman because there isn’t any comment in his ear. The couple next to him gets their drinks dropped off and the bloke gives an expectant look to Eggsy.

‘Cept Eggsy ain’t lookin’ at him. He’s lookin’ at the drink that’s being slid to a woman that just had a drug dropped in it with spy-worthy stealth. Eggsy wouldn’t even have seen it if he wasn’t so keyed up all the damn time. 

He stands up straight, moving away from his place at the bar to head farther down to the couple. His vision tunnels and his breathing goes slow and steady, like he’s prepping for a sniper shot. 

“Galahad,” Merlin says urgently, breaking up the white noise that blocked the club music in his ears. “You’re outside mission scope. Your contact is meeting you at the right side of the bar. Where are you going?”

Eggsy has to lick his lips and swallow to get the bad taste out of his mouth, the sense memory drowning out the peppermint he had on his way over. “That bastard just slipped something into his date’s drink,” he tells Merlin, dodging a drunk half-falling off a stool. “She don’t know it yet and I’m going to smash his fuckin’ face--”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Merlin interrupts, voice cold in a way Eggsy ain’t ever heard before. The next time he speaks, it’s softer, but chills race down Eggsy’s spine anyway. “Lad, you know your mission, and drawing unwanted attention to yourself is only going to make this harder for yourself. Turn around and go back to your place before we have to scrap the entire thing.”

He stands still in a sea of moving bodies, the order going against his instinct to smash the glass out of the girl’s hands and shoot the fucker who gave it to her in the stomach. Honestly, he could do without shooting the prick and just getting the woman away from him.

The bitter taste in his mouth gets stronger when he watches the woman laugh and raise her glass to her mouth, although she doesn’t take a drink yet, replying to whatever made her laugh. His right hand shakes against his thigh, the urge to slap the drink away growing stronger. 

“That’s an order.”

Making the decision to kill every guard he came in contact with in Valentine’s bunker was simple. They were evil, weren’t they? They agreed with a psycho who wanted to kill millions of people. He shot a general in South America last month, and pulling that trigger when he was given the green light was easy as breathing. He helped another agent kidnap an ambassador so they could get information about a gun ring, and Eggsy knew exactly how Tristan planned on getting that information. He never regretted that decision.

So why was this hard? Why was following an order to make contact with a cocaine dealer to get more information on their distribution chain making him sweat? 

“Galahad? Do you understand? You’re going to draw attention to yourself. Turn around and go back to the right side of the bar to wait for your contact before it’s too late.”

This is what he signed up for, right? Savin’ people? So why couldn’t he save this one? She didn’t deserve this shit. 

“ _Now_ , Galahad,” Merlin snaps. 

She brings the drink to her lips and Eggsy has to close his eyes. He can’t watch it, can’t watch whatever happens next. The hardest decision he’s ever had to make in his career and all he’s doing is turning around. 

When he turns on his heel, his breathing isn’t nearly controlled enough to be normal. Judging by Merlin’s nagging voice in his ear, he ain’t the only one who thinks he’s acting off. All he can do is put this bullshit behind him and hope he can actually sleep tonight, pray that he doesn’t see that woman’s face in his nightmares and wake up to a headline in the paper that makes him sick to his stomach.

“Your contact is already at the bar. Get over there and try to salvage this.”

Eggsy opens his eyes after taking a deep breath, stepping forward to head back to his original place at the bar. More people have swarmed for their drinks, so he has to weave his way through, giving himself more time to actually get his head back on straight for the mission. While ducking through a group of giggling girls who try to draw him into their circle, Eggsy tries to gets a good look at his contact. 

All he’d been given was a general description, a name, and a location. The name sounded familiar at the time, and when he finally spots the contact at the bar, Eggsy remembers why. For the second time, he stops in his path, jostled by all the other patrons in the club. 

“Galahad,” Merlin sighs, “I know you want to help, but you’ve got to take this meeting. We--”

“Get me out,” Eggsy says, spinning on his heel and sliding past the same group of girls who called out to him before. “I can’t go out the front. He’ll spot me. I need another way out.”

He can’t help looking at where the couple from earlier was, but their spot at the bar is filled by two middle-aged men trying to get the attention of a woman rolling her eyes. Eggsy clenches his teeth and moves past them. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Galahad?” Merlin asks, half-bewildered and half downright pissed. “The contact--”

“Fuckin’ knows me, Merlin,” Eggsy hisses, slipping past a door labeled _Employees Only_. It’s not locked and he quickly closes it behind him, taking stock of the new area. “He worked with Dean, knows that I ran for him back in the day, and knows that I wasn’t exactly a fan, you get me?” 

Adrenaline floods through his system and he’s aware of every noise and motion in the small hallway. The walls aren’t completely soundproofed but it ain’t as loud, and that’s a blessing. 

“Look, I go out there dressed like this, knowin’ what I know, an’ the only thing I’ll get is a bullet in the skull. If I took a different approach, then yeah, I could get what you want, but not like this.”

He can hear Merlin typing furiously through his comm and as much as he wants to dash out of there, he needs a way out that isn’t through a body bag. Navigating through the back shouldn’t be a problem, but Merlin swears and tells him to run away from the door. “Your target is heading that way, and we know that he’s accessed all sections of the lounge. Both he and his boss frequent the back areas. He doesn’t look too happy that his meeting never happened.”

There’s nothing to be done about the noise his shoes make against the concrete floor. He can only hope that the music still heard from the club is enough to drown them out. There’s no time for stealth. 

“Why is this fuckin’ hallway so bloody long?” Eggsy hisses, ducking into the first opened doorway he comes to, which ends up being a problem, since the door knocks over a bunch of boxes stacked haphazardly. 

“Go!” Merlin shouts. “There’s a guard who overheard.”

“Well who stacks boxes like that?”

“Stop running your mouth and move, you idiot!” There’s no stopping the reluctant grin that forms at the sound of Merlin sounding so out of sorts. Just as he turns the corner, a gun fires and a bullet hits the wall at the end of the hallway. “They’ve noticed they have an intruder.”

“You think?!” Eggsy shouts, slamming his elbow into the face of a man who steps out of his office at the noises. “I need an exit!”

“You think?” comes the sarcastic reply. “At the end of the hallway, take a right. There’s an exit there, but it may be covered.”

He has one of his pistols in his hand before Merlin even finishes his sentence, grimacing because this was not how he viewed his evening ending. He should have ripped that spiked drink out of that girl’s hand and said fuck the mission. Not like he could have carried it out anyway, not with Rob fuckin’ Townley as his contact. 

More gunshots ring out behind him, but he’s an expert in bobbing and weaving around bullets now. Not that he needs to with his suit on, but he ain’t gonna take the chance that one of them will get a lucky headshot in. When he rushes around the corner and sees the exit sign, he breathes a sigh of relief that ends in a shout when a guard appears out of a doorway and tackles him into the wall. He’s more brawn than brains, and telegraphs his move to punch Eggsy in the face, which gives him plenty of time to duck. 

“You can’t let the contact see you. We can still salvage this.”

With a groan, Eggsy gets his leg in between him and the guard, kicking him in the gut and forcing him away. He primes his signet ring and gives the guard a volt, putting him down. There are more shouts down the hallway, so he doesn’t stick around. After bolting through the door, he takes off down the alley, free-running his way over crates and a half-wall. A Kingsman taxi waits for him at the end of the alley, and he doesn’t hesitate jumping in, trying to catch his breath. 

The taxi takes off, weaving through the traffic and Eggsy keeps an eye out behind them for anyone following. After two miles of nothing, no suspicious activity, Eggsy gives the driver the clear to take him back to the shop. 

There’s no communication from Merlin, and he honestly don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. He’s never had a botched mission like this, so the silence is keeping him on edge, not helped along by the adrenaline and guilt churning in his gut for not stopping the wrongs he saw at the bar.

The air in the taxi is fuckin’ stifling, and he practically falls out when it stops on Savile Row outside the Kingsman shop. His right hand clenches around the pistol and he hurriedly puts it back in the holster in the small of his back. Even though it’s late in the evening, getting arrested for waving his gun about would be a shit ending to his already shitty night.

There’s still nothing from Merlin as he walks through the shop, goes down to the tunnel, and takes the bullet train to headquarters, so when he hears Merlin again, his muscles tense quickly and painfully from the shock. Eggsy takes a deep breath as he exits the train. 

“Report immediately to Arthur, Galahad.” Merlin’s tired voice makes Eggsy wince. He knows they put a lot of time into this whole operation and he’d gone and fucked it up proper. He also knows that the last person he wants to talk to right now is Arthur. 

“Can’t it wait, bruv?” His voice sounds equally tired, but pleading doesn’t normally get him anywhere with any his handlers. One flat-out told him to quit his whining, and he’s got a two year old sister, thanks. He knows what whining sounds like and he doesn’t _whine_. ‘Cept maybe now. 

There’s a pause on the other end and Eggsy thinks he’s actually gonna get out of this, but the voice that comes through comms isn’t Merlin. It’s Arthur.

“Absolutely not. My office, immediately.”

He sounds fuckin’ pissed, and Eggsy ain’t about to make him angrier by dawdling in the loading area by the train. He’s walked the path to Arthur’s office hundreds of times, but this is the first he dreads the entire way. The heavy mahogany doors loom ahead and he pauses in front of them, knocking twice and mentally praying for no answer.

“Enter.”

Eggsy exhales sharply, because there goes that dream, and opens the right door so he can go inside. Arthur sits behind his desk staring at him, which is ominous. He swallows tightly, reminds himself that he’s a fuckin’ Kingsman agent, and walks forward to the two chairs opposite the desk. He waits for permission to sit, just as he’s been taught, but for the first time since he was knighted and visited Arthur, it never comes. He clenches his jaw tightly at the expression on Arthur’s face.

The last time Harry looked at him like that, he’d just failed the dog test and stolen King’s car. 

“Explain it to me,” Harry orders, looking him straight in the eye. “Explain to me how you went off your mission script from the moment you stepped inside, put this entire mission and yourself in jeopardy, and ended the night running through the halls of the lounge and were nearly discovered.”

The second part is actually easier. It’s logical, ain’t it? Townley knew him, and he knew that he was meeting a gentleman who had information and wanted in on the drug supply chain. No way could Eggsy pull that shit off with someone who knew him growing up. 

“The contact’s name is Townley, not whatever he gave us earlier,” Eggsy tells him. Harry’s expression doesn’t change, doesn’t even acknowledge that Eggsy just gave him actual information about one of the drug suppliers that no one has been able to find out yet. “I know him, back from the Estates, and he knows me. Knew Dean, knew I used to run for him, and woulda killed me the moment I walked up in this posh getup.”

Harry’s expression tightens, mouth a flat line on his face as he looks over Eggsy’s ruffled suit, the way he’s not standing in the typical gentleman’s stature, with his left hand in his pocket, right resting against his thigh. Eggsy’s actually in parade rest, because he feels like he’s back in training and getting ripped into for whatever reason, but he actually knows he’s fucked up this time, and he’s got no one to blame but himself. 

“You were chosen for this mission because you have somewhat of a working knowledge of the drug trade in London. That was the entire _point_.”

Eggsy huffs, because that’s a load of bollocks. He knows exactly why he was chosen, and it ain’t because he knows about the drug trade. Eggsy got pulled for this because he used to actually use drugs, used to sell them, and he could fit in with the locals. Not for the first time, he wonders why they even bothered forcing him into the suit for this mission in the first place. 

“You disagree?” Harry asks. “Maybe as you explain to me, you can explain why you risked everything to--”

“To save someone?” Eggsy interrupts, his nails digging into his palms as he makes fists behind his back. “Why I risked practically nothin’ to save a woman? Thought that’s what we do.”

“We follow our missions,” Harry says, and his voice isn’t as hard as it was in the beginning, like he can tell there’s more to the story and he knows pushing isn’t gonna get Eggsy to explain. 

It just makes Eggsy angrier. “An’ if I had stuck around, got in contact with Townley, the mission woulda been blown anyway. Least this way someone else can go in, yeah? I mean, did you honestly think I wouldn’t run into someone I knew? It was gonna happen! Why’re you pissed when it did?”

He’s expecting a quick answer, an immediate response, but Harry just stares at him and says nothing. There’s no way he actually did forget the crowd Eggsy used to run with. Not like he lets himself forget, or that other knights don’t give him shit for his accent, his clothes when he’s not wearing a suit, or the so-called ‘basic’ mistakes he makes when he’s on a mission that requires him to fill the part of gentleman. Roxy says it’s meant in good fun, that they’re just correcting him so he’ll learn, but he’s been on the receiving end of bullies enough to know the truth. 

Eggsy is _tired_ , and he gives a mental _fuck it_ to being a gentleman, dropping down into one of the chairs in front of Harry’s desk. The other man doesn’t look pleased, but he doesn’t make a remark about it, which is a first. Harry’s one of the first who will ‘correct’ his behavior. It feels different coming from him, like it’s an honest correction and he really does just want Eggsy to be better. 

“Look, I can go back in, yeah? ‘Cept go as meself. They won’t have to teach me much, which is good for them, an’ they already know I can keep my mouth shut. They ain’t gonna be afraid to talk around me.”

He thinks it’s a good idea. Less risk for discovery, less chance that he’ll be put through the paces to prove himself. He’d prefer it anyway, since he wouldn’t have to watch his accent, watch his posture, be anyone but himself. 

So he’s surprised when Harry shuts him down immediately. 

“Absolutely not.”

Eggsy blinks, trying to figure out if he actually heard right. He sits up in shock. “What are you fuckin’ on about? You serious? It’s a good plan!”

Harry ignores him and starts to gather paperwork on his desk, signing one of the papers with flourish. “You are hereby removed from all London-based missions and missions that may take place in surrounding areas, pending my approval.”

“You benchin’ me?” he yells. “Why?!”

Harry finally raises his head and fixes Eggsy with an unreadable look. “You allowed yourself to panic. We could have given you a backstory to use when you made contact, but you ran instead. You’re compromised, and since you still haven’t given me a proper explanation for your mission deviation, I cannot trust you.”

Getting shot hurt less than hearing those words. He ain’t even shouting them, just calmly explaining why he’s grinding Eggsy under his heel. Eggsy’s breathing picks up, and of course Harry notices. “This is only temporary, Eggsy,” he says gently. “I would suggest setting a meeting with one of the psychologists. Something has clearly rattled you.”

“You benched me!” he snaps. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be _rattled_?”

Truth is, he’s done stupider shit on missions before. Broke an ankle jumping off rooftops in Brazil, nearly snapped his collarbone in a car crash in Germany, and definitely managed to get a concussion on a mission in Japan. Every time, he got a stern look and lecture from Harry while in hospital on the grounds, swiftly followed by a congratulations on a mission well done, but this is the first time he’s not hurt and getting _suspended_. 

It feels a hell of a lot like a punishment.

“And while you’re home, try not to venture out much. We don’t know if anyone recognized you and we can’t risk your safety.”

Eggsy looks up at Harry with an incredulous expression. Risking his safety? His entire job risks his safety on a daily basis. “You serious? I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” Harry tells him, and for the first time all night, he gets a small smile out of the other man before it quickly fades. “But I won’t risk it.”

The changes makes Eggsy pause a blink. First, it was ‘we can’t risk’, then it went ‘I won’t risk’. Shaking his head, he levers himself out of the chair, because there’s no use in looking that closely into it. It meant nothing, and it’s just Eggsy focusing on the wrong thing. He’s still running off adrenaline and hypervigilance. Eggsy could focus on the ceiling and pick out similarities and differences right now. 

“Fine,” he clips, slipping into his posh accent and forcing his shaking body into the proper gentleman’s pose. “Will that be all, Arthur?”

It’s clear that Harry sees the change, knows that Eggsy’s right pissed with him, but he doesn’t comment on it. Because that would be ungentlemanly, apparently. He signs another piece of paper and gathers them together. “See medical for your post-mission examination. I expect your full report by tomorrow evening.”

Eggsy nods and turns on his heel, taking the dismissal gratefully. He just wants to go home and fall into bed, except he’s probably going to have nightmares tonight. So much for sleeping.

“Eggsy,” Harry begins. He stops, and can’t help but look over his shoulder. “I do think you should make an appointment with a psychologist. You’re a remarkable agent, and you perform amazing work when you’re at your best.”

There’s nothing he can say to that, because if he agrees, it’s gonna be a lie, and if he disagrees, Harry’ll probably dart him and drag him to the psychologist himself. Neither way is a win for him.

So Eggsy nods and walks out of the room as quickly as he can.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy’s not surprised that he only gets to sulk angrily for two days before Roxy comes knocking at his door. He honestly thought she’d show up sooner, given that her last mission racing across Taiwan ended when his did. Course, there’s not much to say to someone who royally fucked his own mission, is there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jacy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jacyevans) for the quick beta.
> 
> And I should probably mention that things have to get worse before they get better, right? I promise there's a happy ending.

Eggsy’s not surprised that he only gets to sulk angrily for two days before Roxy comes knocking at his door. He honestly thought she’d show up sooner, given that her last mission racing across Taiwan ended when his did. Course, there’s not much to say to someone who royally fucked his own mission, is there? 

Maybe she thought he wanted space. Maybe she thought he would want to talk about it. Judging by the look on her face though, Roxy is wishing that he'd shut up about the whole thing right about now. Too bad he's on a tear, barely even touching his pint as he goes on. They’re at a local pub near Eggsy’s flat, because Roxy wanted a proper drink and to be around normal people, whatever the fuck that means. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to vent.

“An’ then he's actin’ like it’s normal to ignore it, like I'm not a decent human bein’,” Eggsy rants. “He keeps goin’ on about me bein’ a gentleman and then when I try to do the right thin’, I'm told to just bugger off make friends with a piss-poor excuse for a man.”

Roxy sighs, but she's letting him get it out like a good mate, not agreeing or disagreeing just yet. He knows she'll dish out pearls of wisdom later, but Rox learned from experience to let him get everything out of his system in one go.

“An’ if I’d stayed, there's a good chance I'd be in hospital, not at a pub. Townley’s a right wanker an’ he hated Dean almost as much as me.” She looks like she don't believe him, and sure, there were very few people who could stand Dean Baker, but Townley sure as fuck wasn't one of ‘em. “Last time he saw me, he tried to sic his dogs on me, yeah? Had to climb up the side of a building an’ run through a flat that had the windows open to get away. Thought for sure I nicked one of his deliveries, only it weren't me because I was elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Roxy asked with a small grin. “Care to expand on that?”

Eggsy shrugs, going for a version of the truth that won't make her question more, but isn't full of the right details, neither. Can't exactly tell her he was with Ryan nicking the back room of a jewelers, can he? “Was out shoppin’. Look, the point is Townley knows me. He ain’t gonna buy the posh bloke getup they made me prance about in.”

Roxy rolls her eyes. “In that case, go as yourself. There's plenty of precedent in previous missions. If the situation is safe, knights are encouraged to use contacts established before knighthood.”

For a moment, Eggsy feels validated. He knew his idea was a good one, but the emotion leaves as swiftly as it arrived and is replaced with irritation. His lips twist into a frown as he looks at his untouched pint. The whole thing sounds so easy when Rox says it that Eggsy still doesn't understand why Harry shut it down immediately. 

“That's what I said,” he mutters, finally bringing the glass to his lips to swallow a good portion in one go.

Roxy nods like that's that and everything is well in the world. “Excellent. Problem solved.”

“Problem not fuckin’ solved,” he replies with a snort. “Arthur told me no an’ then suspended me.”

For the first time all evening, Roxy looks surprised at the turn in the story. Maybe she hasn't heard about the whole argument after all. 

“He what? Why?”

God, Eggsy wants to get that damn argument out of his head, but it’s been on repeat since he walked out of Harry’s office. Clenching his jaw, Eggsy nudges his glass around on the table. “He said I panicked, an’ that I was compromised, whatever the fuck that means. An’ then he told me he didn’t trust me.”

Roxy stares at him, eyes wide with disbelief, and he bets that’s the same face he had when Harry first said it to him. Eggsy nods and takes another drink, slamming it back down onto the table.

“Maybe he wants to try a different approach now that you’ve given him the actual name of your contact,” she tells him slowly, thinking about the options Arthur could work through that aren’t a complete pile of shit. 

“Then why th’fuck didn’t he ask me to stick around an’ give him more information?” he snaps. “It’s not like they’ll find anything out. He may be higher up in the food chain now, but he's a pleb like me where it counts, an’ we don't exactly get glowin’ letters of recommendation when we move jobs. Not important enough, are we?”

Roxy shakes her head, leaning forward in her seat. “You _are_ important, Eggsy. That’s why you were chosen for this. It’s a delicate operation that Arthur trusts you to complete.”

Anger wells up and he slams his glass down onto the table, liquid spilling out over the sides. When Harry said he was chosen for this operation, he had to hold his tongue. There’s no talking back to Arthur, but Roxy is a different matter. 

“That’s bullshit an’ you know it, Rox!” She’s surprised at his exclamation, but holds her ground, shaking her head. Eggsy pushes right through. “That may be what all them other tossers say or what’s listed on the reports, but don’t think for a second that I was chosen for any other reason than the fact tha’ I used to get high an’ know my way ‘round drug rings.”

For the first time that night, Roxy’s irritation level reaches his and she looks just as frustrated as he feels. “Don’t be ridiculous, Eggsy. You’re a knight, just like the rest of us, and you deserve missions like the rest of us. You completed the same training, and proved yourself more than any other on V-day.”

Eggsy snorts, because that’s not exactly true, is it? He trained, sure, but didn’t pass the final test. And proving himself on V-day? He still let Valentine’s hand touch the desk, and twice at that. Countless lives lost because he was flipping his way through the concrete corridors.

“Nah, my missions ain’t ever on your level. They’re always gonna be this. ‘S not like anyone else knows the right cockney slang, is there?” he asks bitterly. “You said it y’self. It’s _important_. I was _chosen_ \--”

“You _were_ ,” Roxy interjects vehemently, voice getting louder and faster as she talks. “You’ve been on plenty of missions that were just as important! Cairo, Vientiane, Manila--”

“So why the fuck did I get pulled for walkin’ in a club an’ seein’ someone I used to know in London?” Eggsy shouts back at her. “Why the fuck am I bein’ punished for my past?”

She sighs again, bringing a hand to rub at her forehead. When she speaks again, her tone isn’t harsh and her voice isn’t loud. Roxy’s back to attempting to help Eggsy work through the situation. It normally works but now it makes his skin crawl. “It’s not a punishment for who you were, Eggsy. I admit, from the way you explain everything, the whole mission was doomed from the start, but you did hesitate when given direct orders. That hesitation can get us killed.”

He _knows_ that, and in every one of the missions she mentioned earlier, Eggsy didn’t hesitate for a second. He took his shots, cut down anyone who stood in his way, and did exactly as he was told, no questions asked. That’s why it hurt so much to go against Merlin, his handler for most of his missions. They saved the fuckin’ world together, but they couldn’t save one woman from a monster.

“An’ if I hadn’t hesitated an’ walked back to the bar, who knows what would’ve happened to me,” he replies with a shrug. “Everythin’s a judgement call, yeah? I guess I just wanna know why I don’t get to make ‘em. I could’ve saved her, Rox.”

Rox’s shoulders drop and Eggsy knows that she’s just as torn up about the whole thing as he is. The moment he told her about the bloke spiking the drink, she started to make noise about tracking him down and kicking his arse, but they both know it’ll never happen. That’s not the way the world works, even with Kingsman. 

“But if you had,” she begins gently, “you wouldn’t be able to go back in, because you definitely would have been noticed. And think of all the lives you can save if you stop this drug trade from continuing.”

The rationalization just makes him angrier. “The lives I _can_ save? It’s a hypothetical, innit? Think of the life I _could have_ saved.”

“Eggsy, that’s not--” Roxy begins, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He don’t want to hear anything else. 

“There’s only one reason someone puts a drug like that in a drink,” Eggsy tells her, fists clenched on the wooden table top. “When they know the person on the other end would say no. An’ whatever happened to her is on me, because I knew what that wanker was gonna do an’ I let him.”

He’s shaking, but it’s not all from anger. The woman’s face is burned into his mind and he’s woken up wondering if she’s even alive. He’s been too scared to check the papers for police reports.

“You wanna know the worst part?” he asks, not even waiting for an answer. “Even fuckin’ Dean stopped that shit when he saw it. Had Rottie smash the bloke’s face into the wall when he found out. Thought that any man who had to resort to that wasn’t a real man in the firs’ place. So what does that make me, when I looked away from a crime even Dean didn’t like?”

Roxy’s resolve comes back as she shakes her head firmly. “You are _not_ your stepfather. He would abuse you _and_ your mother to attempt to keep you in line.” 

“‘S not the same.”

“It is,” she fires back. “They’re both forms of control - one through mind-altering substances and the other through fear.”

Eggsy scoffs, pulling his fists off the table and shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. “Trust me, Rox. It ain’t the same. I put myself in front of Dean’s fists to protect my family, an’ I coulda stepped out when I wanted, not that I would’ve. But I didn’t--”

He clenches his teeth and looks away, holding back the words before he lets more slip. His records at Kingsman lack a lot of details, and Eggsy likes it that way. He likes that the people who read about him don’t know fuckall about what he’s done with his life, especially with his police records erased upon his knighthood. The only things on file are his few early life achievements, various trips to A&E when he was a minor, and his stint in the Marines. Everything else is blank. 

“You didn’t what, Eggsy?” Roxy asks after a few awkward moments of silence. 

“Don’t,” he murmurs, still not looks at her. He can’t handle the pity in her expression. “Jus’ don’t, all right?”

The silence continues on as he watches the other people in the pub aimlessly. Roxy takes another drink and sets the glass back on the table, the dull thud as loud as a gunshot to his ears. 

“You knew the champagne was off during the loyalty test. You mentioned it, and then you felt it before me or Charlie.”

There’s no question, but Eggsy knows what she’s thinking. There wasn’t time for her to ask after they were drugged, since they had twenty-four hours with their mentors, and the final test after that. If he hadn’t opened his big mouth, Roxy probably would’ve forgotten all together. 

Eggsy recalls the confidence he felt as he walked into the club, grabbing the free drink offered - which should’ve been his first clue, honestly - and locking eyes with the target. He pulls that same confidence over him like a blanket, cocky grin on his face as he turns back to Roxy. He almost falters when he catches her devastated expression, but pushes his discomfort aside. 

“Yeah, well, it tastes diff’rent in a pint, don’t it?” Roxy’s shoulders fall even more, and Eggsy’s had enough of that, thanks. He starts to shuffle out of the booth, eyes set on the exit. Just as he’s about to stand, to get away from this train wreck of a conversation, Roxy throws out a question that stops Eggsy in his tracks. 

“Have you actually said any of this to Harry?”

He laughs, the sound sharp and without humor. “An’ say what, Rox? Sorry that I’m too chav for you? Sorry that I obviously didn’t live up to your expectations so you have to send me on shitty drug runs that I still manage to fuck up?”

The more he talks, he angrier he gets, but hurt grows in his gut, too. What a disappointment he must be, if he can’t even handle a simple local mission in a club where all he had to do was read from a script. This was the first mission where he would have actually communicated with a mark, where he needed his suit. Putting it back on felt strange after so long without it.

“Sorry that the only things I’m good for are telling where to buy the best snow and get paid best for gettin’ on my knees?” Roxy reels back, inhaling sharply because there he goes again, letting his anger control his mouth, and he’s gotta fuckin’ stop one of these days. “He’s a fuckin’ gentleman, an’ he deserves better than that.”

 _Better than me_ goes unsaid. 

She looks unbelievably sad, just like his sister when he tells her it’s time for bed, and curling up with her and watching her sleep in a calm house sounds like a dream right about now. Eggsy stands with a sigh. “Jus’ the world I live in, Rox.”

Before he can say anything else, she turns in her seat to frown at him. “ _Lived_ , not live. You’re not there anymore, remember? You’re a Kingsman now.”

Eggsy laughs, and the self-deprecating sound that makes her wince. “Oh really?” he asks, thinking back to all his missions before, even the ones Roxy listed. They were all information retrievals or assassinations. He may not be able to talk or walk like a gentleman, but he can steal and kill like the lower class commoner he really is. 

Even Kingsman needs someone to do their dirty work. 

“Funny, ‘cos it seems to me that Kingsman is fuckin’ dead set on sendin’ me right back into it.”

As Eggsy leaves, ignoring Roxy calling after him, an idea starts to form. He knows that if he’s found out - and he probably will be - he’ll probably be kicked out of Kingsman for good. It’ll be worth it, though, to prove to all the stuffy sods that he’s worthy of his title, worthy of Galahad. 

It’s like she said. He just needs to use the contacts he had before he became a Kingsman. They already shoved him at one anyway, since they wanted so much information about London’s drug trade.

Might as well give ‘em what they want, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Ataraxetta for the awesome prompts. And if you see any errors, let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> The two prompts that this fic is inspired by worked so well together that I had to do them both. 
> 
> 1\. Eggsy fucks up a mission in a big way. It's his fault, for whatever reason, maybe requiring formal reprimand. He doesn't handle it well (in whatever form you'd like that to be! beating himself up about it or maybe lashing out). He's not used to fucking up, especially when he has no one to blame but himself. Harry struggles to toe the line between being Arthur, Eggsy's boss, and being Harry, Eggsy's partner.
> 
> 2\. Eggsy has a lot more trouble adjusting to Kingsman than he lets show. Class differences actually make his job difficult - small behaviors/expressions (or the lack thereof) keep giving him away, and it ends up messing up a mission. Or anything along these lines, I'm not picky - just Eggsy feeling like he's never going to leave the pleb behind. And, for that reason, he hasn't tried to pursue anything with Harry, though he's head-over-arse in love with him.
> 
> And if you see any mistakes, please let me know. This wasn't brit-picked and I'm a perfectionist.


End file.
